


The Veil

by aqueenofokay



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueenofokay/pseuds/aqueenofokay
Summary: A year after the loss of a very close friend, Tyler, Brock and Brian set out on a road trip to haunted attractions throughout the states to commemorate their friend. However, one 'attraction' posted on a forum isn't quite what it seems and the boys find themselves in a world inhabited by the dead.





	1. The Veil

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a request on my tumblr (Ghosstkid) and I've come up with a huge plot line for it! The Veil is made up of a series of shorts, telling the story in fragments from three different perspectives! I'll posting the shorts here and on my tumblr as well!! I hope you enjoy!  
> Don't worry, I will return to Venefica for those of you reading it. I am just taking a break from big fics right now as I have midterms and other projects for school coming up. As well, being honest, the motivation for Venefica kinda dropped so I'm trying to keep on writing so I don't completely lose all motivation. Thank you for your support!

Cars sped down the highway all night and into the morning. The occasional highway patrol car sirens could be heard. The rumble of semi trucks shook the motel just off the highway, it’s parking lot empty save for three cars, one of them a polished white and black Corvette. The early morning sunlight filtered through the grimy curtains.

Sitting up on the pullout mattress, Brock lazily scrolled through twitter. Tyler snored on his bed and across the room, Brian muttered something in his sleep. Brock didn’t understand why they were sleeping so peacefully, it was so loud. But then again, he hadn’t been sleeping well for a year now. Another semi rumbled down the highway. Brock shuddered.

“The convention will be opening on Friday with a memorial for the loss that shook our community last year.” A tweet on Brock’s feed said. He quickly scrolled past it, not wanting to see the picture attached to it. He saw tweets from his friends talking about the convention this coming weekend and how excited they were to see everyone. Brock was excited too, but there was no denying the heaviness that hung over the group. Something was missing and it couldn’t be replaced.

“Shit…What time is it?” Brian mumbled from under his blankets. Brock looked up, grateful for the distraction from his sad thoughts.

“Six forty-five,” Brock answered.

“Ugh…Wake Tyler up. We should be going soon if we’re gonna go to this last place before the con.” Brian said, sitting up. His blonde hair stuck out in all directions.

“You can wake him up. I ain’t doing that.” Brock shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. Brian yawned, falling back onto his bed.

“I don’t really feel like going to a con…” Brian whispered.

“I don’t know if any of us do…But I think we need it. We need to see each other on Friday. Our fans need to see us.” Brock sighed. Brian said nothing. Brock went back to scrolling.

“I’m having a shower.” Brian got up and headed for the bathroom. The door closed quietly. Brock dropped his phone, pressing his hands against his face. He wouldn’t cry, not again.

“Are you okay?” Brock dropped his hands. Peering over his blanket, Tyler’s bright eyes blinked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll buy you a coffee.” Tyler yawned.

“Thanks.”

A siren from a police car wailed. Both of the boys looked at the window.

“Brian’s in the shower.”

“Cool.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Brock asked quietly.

“What? Yeah. Fine.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

A semi rumbled down the highway.

“We should get going soon.” Tyler threw back his blankets, getting up. He pulled on a shirt as he walked over to the bathroom, knocking loudly on the door. “How long do you gotta take to shower? What are you doing? Jacking off?” Brock laughed at the crude joke. A muffled ‘no’ answered Tyler. “Hurry up! We gotta go soon! We got one last stop on the tour!” It had started as a silly idea over the summer. A road trip from Tennessee to Los Angeles, stopping at so-called haunted attractions along the way.

“He liked scary maps…Even though he thought they were stupid, he enjoyed them. Why not go through these silly haunted mazes…For him?” Craig had said one night in the discord server. But other plans got in the way and only Brock, Tyler and Brian could do it.

“What’s this last place called?” Brian had asked over dinner last night.

“It doesn’t really have a name but the locals call it the ‘Portal to Hell’ and they don’t like going there.” Tyler laughed.

“Oh my god.” Brian choked on his soda.

“This guy on Reddit says the veil is thinnest there and some people have gone in only to disappear, never to be seen again.”

“Is it safe? It’s the only one that seems more like an abandoned building than an attraction.” Brock had said when he spun Tyler’s phone around on the sticky plaid tablecloth to look at the picture of the building. It looked like it was falling apart, the white walls peeling, the windows boarded up, the door hanging open.

“We’re meeting a guy who’ll show us around.”

“And kill us?” Brock had asked, his eyebrows raising.

“Maybe.” Tyler had laughed.

Now, folding the mattress up and tucking it away under the couch cushions, a chill went up to Brock’s spine. Something told him they should just finish off the trip now, go straight to Los Angeles and forget about it. Everyone else would be arriving tomorrow, the day before the convention. They had been driving for days and all three of them were tired and starting to get tired of each other. Brock loved them but spending hours in a small car with Wildcat and Terroriser was starting to test that love.

“It’s the last day of our road trip! We got one last stop to make!” Brian smiled into his camera. Brock kept his back to the camera. “Are you excited, Brock?” Brian asked. Brock turned, forcing a smile.

“Yeah! Are you ready to go, Brian?”

“Yea! Just waiting on Tyler now.” Brian said and went back to vlogging, telling the camera about the place they were going to. Brock grabbed his bag and headed for the front door. Outside, it was hot already, the Californian sun shining down on the pavement.   Setting his bag down beside Tyler’s car, he let out a sigh. He had been hesitant to go on the road trip. All of this talk of death and ghosts wasn’t helping. He wanted to go home. Tomorrow and Friday would be the worst.

The day before the convention was the last day they saw him alive. The news came at one, almost an hour after it happened.

They had been having a meetup with fans.

Craig had gotten a text from his girlfriend. Craig had started shaking. When asked what was wrong, he pushed the phone into Tyler’s hands and fled the courtyard.

“This is a joke…It’s a joke…It’s not real.” Tyler had said, shaking his head. He gave Craig’s phone to Brock and Anthony. Brock had read the text almost fifty times before he realized what had happened. Scotty had wrapped his arm around Tyler, turning him away from the fans. Brian went after Craig.

“Everybody has to go,” Brock said with a trembling voice to the concerned fans crowded around them. No one moved. “Please go. We’re sorry…Please go.” But it was him and his friends who left first, shoulders trembling, eyes welled up with tears. Brock remembered waiting at Craig’s place for hours when the news was confirmed by a tweet from his friend’s father.

A tweet.

Marcel had thrown his room across the room hard enough to crack it.

Brock remembered watching the news in Craig’s living room, seeing helicopter footage and the numerous emergency response vehicles. He remembered the distressed calls from Delirious, Daithi, Smitty and John. A week later, everyone went home in their black clothes and into radio silence. Ryan tried leaving messages of comfort in the discord server but they had mostly gone unanswered. Luke was the first one to talk about it on his channel. It took weeks before the majority of them could finally talk again.

“He wouldn’t want you guys to give up. He’d want you to continue to make videos, make people laugh.” Lauren had said one night. “You don’t have to do anything right now, but when you are ready, I’m here to talk and so are your friends.”

“Ready to go?” Tyler asked, bringing Brock back to the present. He nodded. “Cool. We’re only two hours away. Let’s see if I can make one and a half.” Tyler laughed, unlocking the car.

“Be careful,” Brock warned as he opened the trunk, loading it with their bags. Brian stumbled out of their room, his arms loaded with his bags. He always overpacked.

“I’ll go check out. You guys want coffee?” Tyler asked. They nodded and got into the car to wait for Tyler. The muffled sounds of the highway filled the silence. Brock leaned his back against the headrest, listening to the sound of cars passing. He closed his eyes. “Alright! Let’s go!” The driver’s door suddenly opened. Tyler handed them their cups of coffee as he got in and turned the key. The Corvette rumbled to life.

Brock kept his eyes on the window as the car sped down the highway. Brian would film the hot rolling hills around them and fidget with the Go-Pro on the dashboard.Tyler tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the music blasting from the radio, occasionally shooting a glance at the GPS on his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed the exit. Thankfully, he listened to Brock, not daring to speed up or swerve between cars. Finally, the car turned off onto an exit, leaving the mind-numbing highway behind. They drove through a small, quiet town nestled in the foothills. They continued onto an old road that turned into gravel, making Tyler hiss in worry and frustration. The Corvette turned onto a long driveway that snaked through the hills, finally coming to a stop out front the old ranch style house.

“I feel uncomfortable,” Brian said, staring at the house. Brock felt panic bubble in his chest.

“You said there was someone meeting us? There’s no other car here.” Brock said quietly.

“Maybe…Maybe he’s late.” Tyler said.

“Fuck it’s hot.” Brian pulled at his shirt collar.

“Come on, let’s get out,” Tyler said, taking off his seat belt. “We’ll suffocate in here.” Tyler pushed open his door. Brock heard him curse about the dust on his car, and that there had better not be any scratches. Brian got out, pulling the seat back for Brock to get out. He stared at the building in front of him, the cracks between the boards on the windows jet black. They waited.

And waited.

Sweat dripped down Brock’s face and back.

“Can we just fucking go?” Brian finally yelled at Tyler who sat under the only dusty tree. Brock sat in the front passenger seat of the car, the door open. His water bottle was almost empty. “I’m starving!” Tyler got up, dusting off his jeans before walking over to them.

“I want to go in.” Tyler snapped.

“Why? This place is abandoned. There is nothing in there!” Brian cried, throwing his hands up in the air. “Can we please just go?”

“No. We’re going in! We came all of this way!”

“It’s just for a vlog! We can edit it out! Easy peasy!”

“It’s not just for a stupid fucking video, Brian!” Tyler suddenly yelled, making Brian jump. Brock stared at them, not sure of what to say. Brian kicked at the dust.

“I don’t think he would care if we didn’t go in. He never cared for vlogs, never liked the cameras on him despite all the attention he got.” Brian spat.

“Fuck you.” Tyler snarled. With that, Tyler stormed towards the house. Brock watched him jump up the front steps and aim a sharp kick at the flimsy wooden door. It took only a few kicks for it to suddenly fly open in a burst of dust.

“Damn it.” Brock sighed, getting up. He slammed the car, shooting a glare at Brian. “Are you coming?”

“Oh what? Is it my fault now? I was just being honest!”

“Stop it.” Brock suddenly turned, his hands curling into fists. “You’re acting like a child. We are not fighting. I know it sucks and it’s hot and your hungry, but I’m not going to let Tyler go in there alone. So you can wait out here in the heat, or you can come with me. Either or.” Brian let out an angry sigh, walking past Brock towards the house. Brock took one last look down the road, not seeing any dust clouds, before turning and following Brian into the dark. He reached into his pocket for his phone, turning the flashlight on. Brian had his phone out, filming. It wasn’t going to be a complete waste. “Tyler?” Brock called out. He turned to look into one of the rooms, his flashlight landing on Tyler. Brock jumped, not expecting to see him there.

“Right here,” Tyler said. “Come here. There’s stuff in here.” Brock hesitantly made his way into the room, the floorboards creaking under his shoes. Tyler pointed to something on the floor. “It’s a pentagram…” Tyler whispered.

“Ew! Oh my god!” Brian screamed. Brock lead the way out of the room and down the narrow hall, finding Brian in what must have been a bedroom, the bed rotted away to leave nothing behind but a metal bed frame. Brian stood in the middle of the room. He was holding a large jar. It was filled with a black liquid and what looked like a dead snake.

“Put that down right now!” Brock cried.

“What the fuck is that?” Tyler looked pale in the dim light. Brian quickly put it back down on the desk by the boarded window where he had found it.

“Okay, I want to get out of here. Now.” Brian started towards the door only to stop when Tyler suddenly gripped his arm tightly. Silence fell over the room. In the distance, they could hear the highway.

“Did you hear that?” Tyler whispered.

“Hear what?”

“A voice…It said my name…” Tyler stared at Brock, tears in his eyes. “I know that voice…” Dread filled Brock’s chest. The back of his neck burned. Floorboards down the hall creaked. Something banged against the wall. They shouldn’t have come here. The jar suddenly fell off the desk, shattering on the floor. The dark liquid soaked through the cracks in the floorboard.

“We’re leaving. Now.” Brock suddenly said. He pushed past Tyler and Brock, leading the way through the dark hall towards the door only to find it closed as if it had never been kicked open.

“What the fuck?” Brian breathed.

“Help me get it open!” Brock cried, pulling at the handle. Tyler pulled with him. The handle snapped off, sending both of them falling to the floor. The floorboards began to rattle. An energy surged through the room, nearly knocking Brian down the floor. A bright white light shone through the cracks in the floorboards.

“Get out!” Tyler screamed, getting to his feet. He kicked at the door and threw his weight against it, trying to get it to open. The floorboards cracked, then suddenly fell, the light filling the room. A force that felt like thousands of hands, pulled at them, threatening to drag them in after the floorboards. Brock dug his fingers into the cracks of the floorboards under him while Tyler gripped the door. Brian screamed, falling to the floor.

“Brian!” Brock shot his hand out, fumbling to catch Brian as he slid across the floor. Brock grabbed his hand, wincing at the sudden pull on his shoulder. Brian’s legs fell over the side.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Brian gripped Brock’s wrist. “Fuck!” There was another pull, the strong force dragging everything into the pit it had come from. Brian’s hand slipped from Brock’s sweaty grip. Brian screamed. Brock could only stare, horrified. Tyler suddenly fell. His fingers looked broken. He screamed in pain when Brock tried to grab his hand, slipping from his grasp. Brock closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold on. The nails were starting to pop out of the wood. Brock struggled, fighting against the thousands of hands that pulled at him.

“No! No!” Brock tried desperately to pull himself up. The board suddenly flew up, the nails rolling onto the floor. For a split second, Brock stared at the nails, watching them roll towards the pit. Then he was sliding across the floor, dragged by invisible hands. Then he was falling, the bright light fading into darkness.

The house fell into silence, the white light disappearing. When it was gone, it was as if nothing had happened. Silence filled the abandoned home.

In the distance was the sound of the highway.


	2. 12:05

 

The waiting room was busy, almost every chair but one was taken. Bright fluorescent white lights filled the cold room. Quiet music played from the pa speaker but it was at such a low volume it was barely audible. No one said a word, they simply stared straight ahead or at the floor. Sometimes, their eyes would wander to the doors on either side of the room, the window fogged out making it impossible to see what was on the other side, but then their eyes would drift back to the floor or the ceiling or the wall. Pictures of forests hung on the white walls. There wasn’t a clock. By the far door was a desk and a young nurse sat there, writing something. Her white dress and cap seemed to blend into the white walls. She would look up, her pale eyes scanning those who sat in the waiting room before looking back down at the papers on her desk. There wasn’t a clock on the wall. 

The door opposite the desk opened. A nurse identical to the one at the desk held the door open for a young man who seemed to stagger, unsure of the stability of his feet. There was a drop of blood on his forehead.

“Have a seat right here, hon.” The nurse smiled. The young man said nothing as he made his way to the only vacant chair. Eyes watched him. The nurse helped him sit down. “Stay right here, sweetheart. Don’t go anywhere okay, Evan?” She reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, wiping away the blood on his head. 

“Okay.” He nodded. 

“Okay, hon.” She smiled and quickly left the room, her white shoes silent on the white floor. The door closed. Evan’s dark eyes glanced around the room nervously. He shivered, cold air finding it’s way down the back of his neck. Everyone averted their gaze back to the floor or the wall or the ceiling. Evan’s black running shoes tapped against the floor. He checked his watch. It was a Rolex, a gift from a producer who wanted to work with him. The glass over the face of the clock was cracked. Evan frowned. He could still make out the time; 12:05. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair. His foot continued to tap on the floor. He had somewhere to be, he was sure of it. He glanced at the woman beside him. 

“How long have you been waiting?” Evan whispered. She raised her head, looking at him with dazed, empty eyes.

“I-I don’t know.” 

“I guess the doctor is busy today.” Evan sighed. 

“I’m not sick.” She said. Her eyes widened. She suddenly stood. The nurse looked up from her desk. “I’m not waiting anymore!” The woman headed for the door Evan had just come through. Evan watched as she suddenly stopped, her hand outstretched towards the handle. Slowly, the woman lowered her hand. She turned and walked back to her chair, sitting down. 

“A-Are you okay?” Evan whispered when she sat down. The nurse pressed her finger to her red lips and shushed Evan who shrunk back in his chair. The woman said nothing, only stared straight ahead at the white wall opposite her. Evan looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

His right leg hurt. He pressed his hand against his knee, rubbing it in an attempt to relieve some pain. 

“Oh my, hon. You’ve had a rough day haven’t you, love?” The nurse had said when he arrived. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. You won’t notice a single thing!” His memory of arriving at the hospital was foggy. He couldn’t quite remember how he made his way into the white room where he met the nurse. Evan decided that he must have hit his head somehow. He did remember roughhousing with Tyler and Daithi the night before at Craig’s place. Maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought he did when he tripped over the ‘Lovesac’ in Craig’s living room. They had all laughed. 

Evan smiled at the memory. It was nice to see them all again. They were all in town for a convention. Evan’s eyes suddenly widened. 

The convention. 

He was going to be late. He checked the time. His brow furrowed. The watch said 12:05. He could have sworn it had been at least five minutes since he last checked the time. Evan glanced at the nurse. He didn’t want to say anything. He glanced at the other people who stared at nothing. Something wasn’t right about them. Evan fidgeted with the sleeve of his black bomber jacket, the silky fabric reflecting the white light. His foot tapped against the floor. He shivered again. Why was it so cold? His throat felt parched. There wasn’t a watercooler anywhere to be seen. He ran a hand through his black hair. Flakes of dried blood fell onto his jacket. He glanced at his watch again. 12:05. Evan stared at the watch. Was it broken? He didn’t remember dropping it or hitting it against something. He took a deep breath. 

“Excuse me? Do you know what time it is? I’m scheduled to be at this event in an hour…” Evan’s voice seemed to echo through the room. The nurse stared at him. 

“Don’t worry, hon.” The nurse finally said with a smile. Then she went back to her work. Evan opened his mouth to ask again for the time but no words came out. Evan’s eyes lowered to the white floor. He continued to fidget with his sleeve. 

He wondered if he should text the guys, let them know he was running late. His hand went to his pocket only to find it was empty. In a panic, he checked all of his pockets. Empty save for a napkin from breakfast. He couldn’t have forgotten his phone, he never forgot it. Eyes went to Evan who frantically checked his pockets again. He was the only person moving in the whole room. Realising everyone was once more staring at him, he leaned back in his chair, lowering his gaze back to the floor. “Evan Fong?” He jumped back. The nurse stood in front of him. He hadn’t seen her move. 

“Y-Yeah?” 

“Come with me please.” She turned sharply and headed to the second door that looked identical to the first. Evan glanced at the other people, wondering what exactly it was they were waiting for before getting up and hurried after the nurse. She held open the door for him. He stepped into a dimly light hall. There gas lamps on the wall, the flames flickering quietly. Doors lined the hall. “This way, hon.” The nurse stepped past him and lead the way to the end of the hall. She stopped in front of a door. She turned and smiled at him. Her eyes looked too white. “Have a seat, sweetheart. The doctor will be with you soon.” 

“Thank you…” Evan said, stepping into the room. The walls were all white. There were no decorations save for a landscape photo of green forests on each of the four walls. There was a desk and a chair in front of it identical to the ones in the waiting room. Evan turned back to the door only to find it closed. Slowly, he sat down and waited in silence. He checked his watch again. 12:05. 

“Evan right?” The door suddenly opened. A young man with dark hair and eyes stepped into the room. He held a folder in his hand. His white jacket seemed as a white as the walls and the light. “Too bad about your watch, those things are nice.” The doctor gestured to the watch on Evan’s wrist. 

“Oh….Yeah. I don’t know how it happened.” Evan shrugged. The doctor sat down across from him and opened the file. “Do you know how long this will take? I just have this event I have to be at-” 

“Did no one tell you?” The doctor asked, looking up at Evan with concerned eyes. Like the nurse, they seemed to be too white. Evan shivered. 

“Tell me what?” 

“I can’t keep doing this. Gotta remind the nurses to tell the new patients. But we’ll get to that later. We have to decide what to do with you, Evan. You’ve made quite a name for yourself. Vanoss, Rynx, you had a lot going for you.” 

“Excuse me? What? How do you-Why would you say that?” 

“We weren’t expecting you so soon, in all honesty, there was a mistake made. You were supposed to get a ride with your friends but you forgot your watch. Silly, really.” Evan stared at the doctor. He could barely breathe. He remembered forgetting his watch. He remembered texting that he’d meet them there. “I’m sorry, Evan. You had a lot left to do.” His words sounded far away. Evan couldn’t understand what was happening. He shook his head. 

“No. No, I’m late. I have to go. This is…This is fucked is what this is.” Evan got up, nearly knocking the chair over. 

“Evan.” 

“Fuck off!” He turned away from the desk. The white walls melted away. Warm rain fell on Evan’s face. He stopped. The road was covered with metal and glass. Fire trucks, ambulances and police cars surrounded him. His phone lay on the pavement, broken and crushed. Evan bent down, picking up his phone. He raised his eyes to look at the car that he remembered getting into. It was a crumpled mess, having rolled several yards down the highway at an incredible speed. Another car, the front of it smashed in was a few yards away and behind it, a semi. A group of paramedics surrounded someone who lay on the pavement by the upside down car.

“Time of death 12:05…” A voice said. Evan dropped the phone. The paramedics stood up as the white sheet was laid over the body. There was a glint of light off a broken watch before the sheet covered it. Evan took a step back. Then he fell. He landed on the white floor of the doctor’s office. 

“That’s not…That’s not…No…No…No…” Evan hugged his knees to his chest. The doctor stood up from his desk. 

“Perhaps my voice isn’t the best one to tell you this.” The doctor said, stopping in front of Evan. He knelt down. Evan looked up, meeting Tyler’s bright blue gaze. “I’m sorry,” Tyler said. “It’s pretty shitty…having this happen all for a watch.” He smiled. Tyler reached for Evan’s hand. “Because it happened so soon…You’re stuck here…the In-Between as we call it down here.” 

“F-For how long?” 

“I can’t say. A long time.” 

“C-Can I see my friends…and family again?” 

“No.”  A sob rattled Evan’s shoulders. 

“Can…Can I have a hug?” Evan asked. Tyler smiled and pulled him into his arms. Evan rested his head against Tyler’s shoulder, wishing it was the real Tyler. After a few minutes, Tyler moved away. “That’s all the time I have.” With that, the doctor stood up. He offered his hand out to Evan who took it, and pulled him to his feet. “It’s back to the waiting room.” He opened the door for Evan who slowly made his way down the dimly light hallway, pushing open the door to the waiting room. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” The nurse asked. Evan said nothing. “Have a seat hon, the wait shouldn’t be too long.” Slowly, Evan made his way back to his chair. He sat down, folding his hands in his lap. Evan lowered his gaze to the floor. 


	3. Flicker

Phones were ringing. A police car was parked outside for the second time in a year. Memories were being searched, text messages reread. Panic filled the air. To Anthony, who sat at Craig’s counter, fiddling with his phone, panic was better than the certainty and grief that had filled the home a year ago. Panic meant there was no certainty, no dead bodies.

“They were supposed to get here yesterday but there’s been no word. They were in the middle of nowhere, I have no idea if they had cell phone signal.” Craig was explaining to a police officer by the front door.

“Why did it have to happen today?” Scotty said quietly as he grabbed another beer. Anthony watched him open the fridge and grab the beer, opening it quickly.

That morning, Anthony had gotten out of bed with the weight of today’s anniversary on his shoulders. He joined his friend’s at the memorial, all of them keeping their eyes off the screen and the photo projected onto it. It still hurt. After the memorial, they finally realized who was missing. They called Tyler, called Brock, called Brian, but received no response. They had waited all day, then finally called the police.

“Waiting like this feels like hell.” Marcel had said while they waited for an officer to arrive. But all they could do was wait. Scotty left the kitchen, collapsing onto the couch beside Chrissy. Marcel, Sami and Smitty were in the backyard, nervously glancing at Craig and the police officer through the tall sliding glass window. Anthony sighed, leaning his head down on the cool counter. He just wanted this day to be over. He wanted his friends home safe and sound. He couldn’t take another loss.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Anthony bolted upright, looking around the kitchen. No one was there.

“What the fuck?” Anthony whispered. He rubbed his shoulder where he could have sworn someone touched him. Telling himself that he made it up, he leaned back down on the counter. Someone tapped him again on the shoulder, more aggressive this time. The kitchen light flickered. Anthony slowly sat up, his eyes wide. “What the fuck?” He didn’t dare move. He turned, looking back at his friends who hadn’t noticed anything. He turned to look back at the kitchen. He wondered if Craig’s house was haunted. “No one would haunt Mini-” He stopped. Today was the one year anniversary. “Evan?” Anthony whispered. Someone poked him hard in the side. “Ow.” Anthony hissed. “Okay…If not Evan, who is fucking touching me?”

The hall light flickered as if it were beckoning him to follow. Anthony glanced back at the others before slowly sliding off his chair and made his way towards the hall. A lamp on the hall table flickered. He stopped at the stairs. Hanging on the railing was Tyler’s jacket that he had forgotten at Craig’s place the last time he was here. The light above the stairs flickered. “Oh shit…Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Anthony whispered frantically. He had no idea what to do. “Oh shit…Please tell me you aren’t dead too.” The light behind him on the wall flared suddenly. “Is that a no? Oh fuck, I don’t know how to communicate with lights. Are you dead, yes or no?” The light in front of him flickered twice. “Is that…a no?” It flickered twice. “Okay…Okay…How can I help you?”

The light by the front door flickered. The police officer and Craig’s conversation trailed off as they noticed the light. Craig looked down the hall, meeting Anthony’s wide-eyed gaze. The light continued to flicker.


	4. Wonderland

A soft snowflake in the shape of a star landed on Brock’s cheek, slowly melting from the warmth of his skin. Icicles hung from the tin roof. Old antique furniture filled the home, snow and frost clinging to the wood and fabric. A grandfather clock by the front door proclaimed the time to be 12:05. In the driveway was a Corvette; rust eating away at the sides and heavy snow cracking the windows.

Brock slowly opened his eyes. He squinted against the harsh white light. He managed to sit up, his back aching. He took in the room, wondering how he got here. He turned. Brian lay on his side a few feet away, a layer of snow blanketing him. The fear filled memories came back to Brock. Crawling across the icy floor, Brock reached for his friend, gently rolling him onto his back.

“Brian…Brian. Wake up.” Brock shook his shoulder. “Wake up.” Brian let out a low groan before opening his eyes, looking up at Brock with an offended look. “Are you okay?”

“I-I…I think so. What…Where are we?” Brian mumbled as he sat up, wincing in pain. Brock shrugged. “Where’s Tyler?” Brock glanced around the room. He was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, Brock got up, glancing into the rooms which were fully furnished, and filled with snow.  In one of the bedrooms was a broken jar, a black liquid oozing out onto the snow. Glancing out one of the windows, Brock’s eyes widened.

“Brian!” Brock yelled, sprinting down the hall to the front door. Brian got to his feet, confused. Brock threw open the door, sliding down the snowy steps. Beside the broken down Corvette, half buried under snow, Tyler lay unconscious, his fingertips blue. “Tyler! Tyler!” Brock cried, making his way through the deep snow. He fell into the snow beside Tyler, struggling to get it off him. Brian stood on the stairs, gripping the icy railing that had not been there when they arrived. “Tyler? Can you hear me? Tyler! Come on, please wake up.” Brock said, struggling to pull his taller friend out of the snow. He wiped the freezing snow off Tyler’s numb face. “Tyler?” His friend winced, his bright eyes squinting as they opened. Tyler looked up at Brock, a look of confusion written across his face. “You’re okay.” Brock managed a smile. He clasped Tyler’s hands tightly, trying to warm them. Tyler stared at him, still saying nothing.

“Is he alive?” Brian called out. Brock shot him a glare.

“Am I alive?” Tyler finally said. He managed to kick the snow off his legs, bracing himself against his car as he struggled to get up. Brock held his breath, praying that Tyler wouldn’t notice the condition of his expensive car. Tyler noticed. “What the fuck?” Tyler yelled, his voice echoing across the snow. Brock cringed. “What the fuck is going on? Where are we? We were in a fucking desert yelling about how hot it was like twenty minutes ago!”

“How are we supposed to know?” Brian yelled back, shivering.

“You were the one touching that fucking jar!” Tyler yelled, trudging through the snow towards Brian. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d be fine! We’d be at Craig’s place, having a beer and getting ready for the convention but no! You had to touch some fucking satanic shit!” Tyler yelled as he reached Brian. He tackled him off the snowy steps, throwing him down into the snow. Brock had to bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. Brian yelled at Tyler, struggling to get him off as Tyler tried to suffocate him in the snow.

The sound of a whistle caught Brock’s attention. He turned. Through the dead trees, he could see smoke rising from a train engine.

“Guys!” Brock yelled. “Guys stop! Listen!” The two boys stopped, looking out to the see the train. “We still have to make it to L.A. If the car isn’t working, then we should try to catch the train!”

“Catch it?” Brian cried, shaking the snow off him.

“What else are we gonna do? Walk?”

“What about our stuff?”

“Forget it. Let’s go!” Brock cried as the whistle sounded again. He turned away from them and started running, his feet weighed down by the snow. He nearly fell as they started down Tyler threw a pile of snow in Brian’s face before getting off him. The three boys sprinted through the snowy desert, nearly slipping on the ice. The train suddenly came into view, the rail cutting through the snowy landscape, heading west. Brock stopped, taking in what he was seeing. Every train car was from another era, some elegant Victorian first-class cars, others grimy New York subway cars, graffiti covering the sides, others heavy metal shipping containers. Tyler grabbed Brock’s arm and pulled him along with him. The heavy wheels got louder as they approached, the whistle piercing their ears.

“Guys!” Brian yelled from behind them. “Slow down! Please!” Brian cried. The last car was coming into view. Tyler and Brock skidded to a stop in the snow. Brian crashed into Brock, sending him falling forward towards the rail and the heavy wheels of the train. Tyler grabbed Brock’s shirt, yanking him back before he could fall under the wheels.

“Fuck, Brian!” Tyler yelled. Brock took a deep breath, his eyes on the last car. When it had just passed them, Brock started running, his hands reaching for the ladder. He pulled himself up then turned, reaching for Tyler and Brian. Brian gripped Brock’s hand. Tyler helped push him up onto the platform. Brock reached for Tyler who sprinted as fast as he could to keep up. Brock remembered Tyler’s fingers, how they had hurt when Brock tried to grab his hand before. “Brock!” Tyler screamed. Brian reached forward, his hand curling around Tyler’s wrist. He pulled. Tyler jumped, his feet slamming onto the ladder. The two boys pulled him onto the platform, gasping for air. Tyler stared at Brock, heaving for air. Snow fell gently around them.

“Never thought I’d have to jump a train before.” Brian wheezed. Tyler got up, peering through the window into the train car.

“Come on.” Tyler pulled open the door, forcing the Brock and Brian to get up. They filed inside only to find it was just as cold inside. Shivering, Brock closed the door behind him. The train car was filled with luggage, old suitcases, new metal suitcases, Gladstones, backpacks. “This is weird,” Tyler whispered. They slowly made their way through the car. Something yellow caught Brock’s eye. On top of a pile of bags and cases was a backpack with a black and yellow winter jacket on top. Slowly, he reached for the jacket and the bag, fearing that his suspicions would be right. Tyler and Brian stopped, looking back at him. Tyler’s eyes widened when he saw the jacket. Brock pulled the jacket off the bag. He opened the backpack. Inside was a notebook, a wallet, a water bottle and a Rolex watch box. There wasn’t a phone. Brock reached for the wallet. He opened it. A familiar face on the I.D. stared back at him. “Brock!” Tyler suddenly grabbed Brock, pulling him down onto the pile of bags. They scrambled around to the other side of the pile as the far door opened. Brock clung to the backpack and the jacket. He pressed his face against it, breathing in the scent of cologne that he hadn’t smelled for a year.

“Who is that?” Brian whispered. Brock raised his face from the jacket, daring to peek over the bags. A tall man stood by the door. He wore a black Victorian suit and top hat. He held a cane, the handle painted gold. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark. Tyler’s grip tightened on Brock. He stared around the room, holding his hand out slightly as if he could sense them there. The man smiled, his glowing eyes drifting over to the pile of bags they hid behind. The boys held their breath. The man stepped out of the car for a moment, only to return with a backpack that had an alien print on it and a cloth bag. He tossed them onto the pile and left, closing the door behind him. The three boys remained motionless for a few more moments before quickly getting up. Brian headed for the door. Tyler stared at the bag and jacket in Brock’s hands.

“Is that…his?” Tyler whispered. Brock nodded.

“How did it end up here?”

“He had it with him…I remember seeing him the day before. He had this coat and this backpack.” Brock said. “I wonder if he…If he had it with him when it happened.”

“But that doesn’t explain how it’s here, on this weird ass train.”

“Guys!” Brian called from the front of the car. Brock stuffed the coat into the backpack, swinging it over his shoulder and followed Tyler through the mess of bags. Brian stood against the rail of the car, looking with wide eyes at the next car. It was a subway car. Through the narrow window in the doorway, they could see ladies in large gowns from the 18th century sitting on the orange coloured benches, their fans fluttering. “Where are we?” Brian whispered.

“We should take a picture for the guys. They’ll never believe it!” Brock smiled. Brian quickly reached into his pocket for his phone. His brow furrowed.

“No signal…Weird.” He mumbled. Then he took the photo. “Come on.” He put his phone back in his pocket and jumped over to the next car.

“What if that weird guy comes back?” Brock whispered.

“It’ll be fine! Come on!” Brian insisted. Tyler shrugged and followed Brian as he opened the door to the subway car. Brock looked down at the snow track below him then took a deep breath and jumped. The ladies looked up at the boys as they entered the car, the feathers in their hair dancing in the cold wind that swept through the car. “Don’t mind us, ladies!” Brian smiled brightly. They all giggled behind their fans. One of them suddenly reached forward and took Brock’s hand in her gentle gloved hand.

“Honey…How did you go?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your life energy is still so strong…” Her eyes were wide. She peered over her fan at him with amazement. “You’re alive…”

“Yes. Are you alive?” Brock breathed. She shook her head.

“Guillotine.” She smiled.

“Brock?” Tyler called out. He stood with Brian by the door. Brock looked back at the woman before pulling his hand away, walking quickly past the other whispering ladies. Brian pushed open the door jumping onto the next car. The container car gave no way to get around save for going over. They climbed up the cold ladder, the wind whipping around them. Brock felt a shiver go down his spine, not from the cold but from the lady’s words. Brian suddenly hollered, startling Brock. Brian spread his arms when he reached the top, the wind pulling at his hair and stinging his cheeks. He smiled brightly.

“Isn’t this amazing?” He called out.

“Sure it is! Keep moving!” Tyler yelled, halfway up the ladder. Brian laughed, rolling onto the top of the container. Brock followed Tyler up the ladder and onto the top of the container. He found himself hesitantly letting go of the metal and spreading his arms. He felt like he was flying. He smiled. The wind pulled at Evan’s backpack and Brock quickly put his arms back down, gripping the container tightly. “Come on Brock!” Tyler called out. The next car was from the early 20th century. Brian pulled open the door as Brock landed on the platform, the backpack bumping against his back. A platoon of soldiers in the French horizon blue uniform were asleep, their heads against the windows, packs on the floor between their feet.

“Oh shit,” Brian whispered. Tyler shushed him. They silently made their way past the sleeping soldiers, careful not trip over their heavy packs.

“Hey.” A voice suddenly said. The boys froze. “Hey!” They turned to face a young man who had four seats to himself. He motioned them to sit with him. Hesitantly, the boys sat down with the soldier. “You got energy.”

“Energy?”

“Living energy…I haven’t felt that in so long…How did you get here?”

“We don’t know…We were in this house and there was this jar and it broke and then this portal opened up in the floor-” Brian spilt out. Tyler kicked his shin.

“Where are we?” Brock asked.

“Us locals call it the Veil, the place for the dead who have made the choice to stick around here, not go to heaven or hell. It’s a place for ghosts…For the dead.” The soldier explained. “It’s quite a process when you die but if you can escape it, you come here. And boy oh boy is it so much better than anything else. Anything you want, you can have.” He smiled brightly. “I got friends, we travel everywhere. We’ve gone far from the front and it’s the best thing we could have wished for.”

“What do you mean…process?” Tyler asked.

“Well…If you die when you were supposed to, you get put into either hell or heaven or whatever you want to call it. Everyone’s got a number, a time cap. If you die before you were supposed to or avoided it somehow and died some other time…You gotta wait. We call it the ‘In-Between’. Worst fucking place, worse than hell if you ask me. Some people have said it’s the first layer of hell.”

“Why do you wait?”

“You gotta wait for your time. Could be a short while, could be decades. Could be forever. I’ve heard of them just forgetting about people down there and they wait for an eternity. You’re left to wait in a place that’s neither here nor there, its nothing, you’re nothing. One of my boys said he met someone who was a peasant during the Plague!”

“How did he get out?”

“You sure are asking a lot of questions.” The soldier laughed quietly. “Why do you wanna know about the In-Between? You’re in the Veil, it’s a lot more fun.”

“We lost our friend last year.”

“Sorry to hear bout that.”     

“He was young…”

“I don’t know what tell you, boys. If you think he’s in the In-Between, leave him. No one goes into the In-Between unless you’re supposed to be there. People only leave it.” The soldier snapped. “You’re idiots if you’re thinkin you can go there. Let your friend wait or figure it out for himself. It’s safer for him and most importantly, yourselves. You got a shit ton of energy, the three of you. That’s a valuable commodity here. So unless you’re planning on staying here permanently, you should get out of here quick. You’ll get all kinds of ghosts and demons on your ass if you stick around and they won’t be as nice as me.”

“Demons?” Brian’s eyes were filled with fear. Brock glanced at Tyler, thinking about the man with the glowing eyes they had seen.

“So how do we get out? Is there a door?” Tyler demanded. The soldier motioned for him to lower his voice, glancing at the other sleeping soldiers. “No. You gotta get someone living to summon you back, open the door for you. For the amount of energy you boys have, you’ll need something strong.” The soldier explained.

“I last texted Craig where we were going,” Tyler said, looking between Brian and Brock. “We have to get to Craig’s place, they’ll all be there…Well…In the living world, they’ll be there.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Brock asked the soldier.

“I’ve seen it happen before.” He shrugged.

“Did they get out?”

“No. Demons got em’.” The soldier sighed.

Silence fell over the train car.

The train car rocked side to side.

The wheels scrapped against the track.

“Someone wanted you here.” The soldier finally said after a few long minutes of silence. “No one living just falls down the rabbit hole and ends up here. Someone wanted you here. Either you find that someone or you get out before they find you.”

“Is that a threat?” Tyler hissed.

“No. It’s the truth. The Veil is lawless. Spirits do what they want. If they want energy…They’ll get it if they find the right door for it to come through. The living don’t last long here.”

“Jesus christ,” Brian swore. “This is not what they teach you in church!” The soldier laughed. Brian turned to Tyler and Brock, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “We’re going to Craig’s, gonna tell him what the fuck is going on and get him to get us out of this fucking hell hole.”

“What about Evan?” Tyler breathed. Brian’s hands curled into fists.

“What about him?”

“What if he’s in the In-Between?”

“You heard what he said! We can’t do anything for him. If we could, I’d be all for it. I’d say let’s go right now! But there’s nothing we can do! We’re going to Craig’s. That’s final.”

“Coward.” Tyler hissed. Brian stood up, his chest puffed, hands curled into fists.

“Fuck you, Tyler! I loved him too! Fuck you for saying that, for treating me like absolute trash this whole fucking trip! Evan was my friend too! I would do anything for him! If there was a way to save him from the In-Between, if he even is there, we would do it. But there isn’t. I’m not putting my life and your lives on the line.” Brian cried. Eyes turned to look at Brian. Realizing that he was the only one moving in the whole train car, he slowly sat down. Silence once more filled the train car. No one had anything to say.

The train car rocked side to side.

Smoke billowed from the engine.

The ladies in the subway car giggled behind their fans.

Exhausted soldiers drifted back to sleep.

Brock leaned his head back against his chair, feeling tired. He closed his eyes, wishing to wake up and have all of this be a dream.

He didn’t want to have Evan’s backpack resting on the floor beside a world war one soldier’s pack.

He didn’t want to accept the idea that his friend was stuck in a liminal space until an otherworldly entity had decided that he’d waited long enough.

He didn’t want to accept that he was stuck in a world full of ghosts and demons.

“What the…” Tyler’s voice woke Brock from his worry filled doze. He opened his eyes, following Tyler’s gaze to the window. Los Angeles sprawled before them but it wasn’t just Los Angeles. It was Los Angeles from the past and the present, all covered in a layer of ice and snow. Skyscrapers rose into the sky beside 19th-century wooden buildings. Palm trees lined the snowy streets that were full of people, each from a different time.

“Even the ghosts of places and things end up here.” The soldier mused as the train made its way through the city. Electrical street lamps and gaslights illuminated the snow, giving it an orange sparkle. Carriages, the first automobiles, long convertibles from the 70s and expensive sports cars travelled along the city’s roads. The boys stared at it all in amazement.

The train entered the station, the soldiers waking from their slumber and marched off the train to the platform. Brock and the others followed. Evan’s backpack felt heavy on Brock’s back.

“Do your best to not get noticed. I’d change into something not so…” The soldier paused, looking over their t-shirts and jeans. Tyler’s shirt said ‘damb’ on it. “Contemporary. Not as questionable. A soldier’s uniform would do.”

“We’re not French,” Brian said, glancing at the blue French uniforms the soldiers wore.

“Trust me. It’s easy to find any kind of uniform here. Good luck getting out of here.” The soldier smiled and turned back to his men, the group heading down the platform.

“Alright…Let’s find Craig’s place.” Tyler sighed. They stood for a moment longer on the platform, taking it all in. Then they headed for the nearest exit.

Relying on their memory, they navigated the busy streets, careful not to stay in one place for long. Along the way, they found a soldier’s pack abandoned out front a saloon. They found three new uniforms inside and a hat which Brock suggested Tyler wear because his uniform coat wouldn’t fit. Hoping no one would notice their running shoes till they could find boots, they continued to Craig’s house.

Finally, turning the corner, their cheeks red, their fingertips numb, teeth chattering, they found Craig’s street.

“There’s a car out front!” Tyler cried, snow collecting on his hat. They hurried down the street, stopping by the car buried under the snow. Tyler wiped the snow off the top, revealing police lights.

“Why would a police car be here? Is it from that day…With Evan?” Brian asked.

“Or…We’re missing.” Brock said.

“Shit. They’re gonna be so pissed.” Brian sighed, trudging through the snow up to Craig’s front door. “Should we knock?”

“No. We’re ghosts,” Tyler said and pushed the door open. Inside it was cold, the furniture looking icy. They stared at the frozen love sacs with disgust.

“What are we gonna do? How do we even know they are here?” Brian sighed, falling onto the cold couch.

“We have energy, right? Maybe we could…Thin the veil a little.” Brock said, thinking about those ghost shows he liked to watch. “Tyler come here.” His friend gave him a confused look before crossing the room. Brock took both of Tyler’s hands, closing his eyes tightly.

“What are you doing?”

“Concentrate. Think about our friends. What are they doing right now, in the real world, the living world?” Brock breathed. He focused on the house and the potential life that could be in it. The lights suddenly flared. Warm light filled the room. For a moment, they were surrounded by warmth. Scotty and Anthony were in the kitchen. Craig was by the front door talking with a police officer. Marcel, Smitty and Sami were standing by the pool outside. The boys opened their eyes, looking around in amazement.

“What the fuck?” Brian cried. The warmth suddenly melted away, buried under ice and snow again.

“Brian come here now!” Tyler yelled. Sighing, Brian got up and joined their circle. “Focus. We need it to last long enough to tell someone what’s going on.” Tyler said, gripping Brian and Brock’s hands tightly. They closed their eyes.

The lights buzzed and flared.

Muffled voices filled the air.

Warmth spread through them, chasing the cold out of their living bodies.

Slowly, they let go of each other’s hands.

“Anthony,” Brock said, making his way towards his friend who had his head down on the counter. He tapped him on the shoulder. Anthony bolted upright. He looked around, confused.

“Anthony?” Brian sighed. “I thought we were gonna tell Craig.”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Tyler hissed. Anthony laid his head back down. Tyler tapped him on his other shoulder. Anthony bolted upright again. “I left my coat here a couple months ago. We’ll give him a sign.”

“Evan?” Anthony suddenly asked, startling them. Tyler stared at him for a moment before poking him in the ribs. Brock made his way down the hall. He stopped under the hall light. The light flickered.

“What if this doesn’t work?” Brian asked worriedly.

“It will,” Brock said as Anthony got up, making his way nervously towards Brock. He walked right through him. Brock couldn’t help the pang of sadness that suddenly ran through him. He wondered if Evan experienced this after his death, standing right beside everyone only to have them walk right through him. The hall light flickered aggressively. Brock pushed the thought away and followed his friend down the hall. He stepped through him to get to the stairs, tapping the light above Tyler’s coat that hung on the rail.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Anthony sounded frantic. “Please tell me you aren’t dead too!”

“No!” Brian yelled, the light beside him flaring up.

“Is that a no? Oh fuck, I don’t know how to communicate with lights. Are you dead, yes or no?” Anthony asked, his eyes looking around widely but never landing his friends who stood around him.

“Two for no?” Brock asked. Tyler shrugged. Brock tapped the light twice, making it flicker.

“Okay…Okay, how can I help you?” Anthony asked.

“How do we tell him that Craig knows where the portal thing is?” Brock asked. Before Tyler or Brian could answer him, the light by the front door beside Craig and the police officer began to flicker aggressively.

“Are you doing that?” Brian asked. Brock shook his head. The warmth started to melt away. Brock quickly ran down the stairs, grabbing Tyler and Brian’s hands. “Oh god…” A dark mass slithered under the door and around Craig’s feet.

The lights went out, plunging both the living and the dead into darkness.


	5. White Room

Silence filled the waiting room. 

The silence was heavy. It was loud. It screamed and it pleaded and it roared. It was deafening. One of the white fluorescent lights on the ceiling flickered. It would sometimes buzz, filling the silence with white noise. The white flickering light reflected off a broken watch. Dark eyes were locked on the white tiled floor. 

Evan couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking. He found himself hunching over in his chair, hugging himself. Anxiety closed his throat. Sweat dripped down his forehead. He felt sick. 

He told himself over and over and over that he didn’t belong here in this waiting room, that he had somewhere important to be, that his friends were waiting for him. 

He told himself over and over and over that he wasn’t dead but the memories would flash through his mind and a new wave of panic would crash over him. He remembered looking down at his phone, starting to type out a text to Tyler that he was on his way. He remembered the driver suddenly gasping and pulling at the wheel. He remembered the end of the semi hitting the car. Remembered the car spinning into another. Remembered how he had thrown his arms over his face as the car began to roll, glass and metal flying through the hot air. 

“No…” Evan whispered. The people sitting beside him glanced down at him. “No.” He said again, louder this time. Eyes turned to him. Evan gripped the arms of his chair as he looked around. He felt the urge to let go of the chair and lower his eyes. He turned his gaze to the white eyes nurse who stared at him. She slowly stood when he didn’t avert his gaze. The urge to let go and look down became almost overwhelming. Evan’s hands shook. He wasn’t someone who got angry, he never got angry. He never broke a controller, never yelled at his friends, never cried when he didn’t get his way. But now, his chest burned with anger. 

Evan was angry. 

Angry at the nurse. 

Angry at the semi-truck driver for killing him. 

Angry at the white walls. 

Angry at the buzzing sound coming from the lights. 

Angry at Craig for telling him it was okay for him to go back and get his watch. 

Angry at himself for wanting it in the first place. 

Angry what whatever it was that wanted him to sit still and stare at the floor. 

Evan suddenly got up. He picked up the chair and smashed it on to the white floor, bits of plastic flying through the air around him like glass. He let out a scream of rage as he brought the rest of the chair down on the floor again. People screamed in shock and fear, ducking to avoid the pieces of plastic. 

“Sweetheart.” The nurse was standing in front of him. Her red lips were pulled into a tight smile. “Are you feeling okay?” Evan stared at her, heaving for air. “Why don’t you have a seat, the wait won’t be much longer.” She gestured to where Evan had just been sitting. There was a new, empty chair there. 

“No.” Evan shook his head. “I have somewhere to be...I’m late.” Evan dropped the broken legs of the chair. Then he turned and started for the door. 

“Sweetheart.” The nurse called out. Evan stopped in front of the door. He felt the urge to wall back to his chair and sit down. Something told him nothing was wrong. Evan bit the inside of his lip. He gripped the door handle and turned it. The white door swung open. Cold air surrounded him but it didn’t bother him. He stumbled out into the hallway, the door closing behind him. He stood in a wide, long white hallway illuminated with harsh white lights. The hallway was lined with identical white doors. At the end of the long hall was an elevator. He started towards it, his black silky jacket rippling as he moved quickly. 

“Hey!” He turned. Two doctors stood near the end of the hall. They started towards him, their eyes as white as the walls. Evan turned, running down the hall. He could hear the doctors behind him. He ran faster, his lungs heaving for air. 

A sudden force hit him in the back. Evan crashed to the white floor. For just a moment, he was laying on hot, sun-warmed pavement, glass and blood dotting the road around him. A shiver ran through him. He opened his eyes, finding himself laying on the cold white floor, dazed and unable to move. Hands suddenly gripped his arms, pulling him to his feet. The doctor who told Evan he was dead stood in front of him. Evan blinked, his head spinning. The doctor had Tyler’s face and when he spoke it was Tyler’s voice.

“I’m disappointed in you, Evan. Waiting for a little while is no reason to throw a temper tantrum.” He said sternly. Evan could say nothing. “Stand up.” Evan slowly managed to stand up properly, the other two doctors letting go of his arms. “Take him downstairs. Don’t try running again, Evan.” Tyler’s bright eyes and voice faded away as Evan was escorted to the elevator. He stared at the floor as it descended. The white doors opened onto an identical white hall. The doctors lead him down the hall. They stopped at one of the doors. The doctor opened it. Inside was a very small white room, a landscape photo of a forest on each of the four walls. In the centre of the small room was a chair and nothing else. 

“Sit down.” One of the doctors said. Evan sat down. “When you’re ready, you can go back to the waiting room to wait for the doctor.” The door closed and locked. Evan stared at the floor. He wanted his friends. He wanted to talk to them, hug them. 

Silence filled the room. It felt heavy. It felt painful.

Evan’s eyes filled with tears.

The white fluorescent light buzzed. 

Evan’s shoulders shook with a sob. 

He wanted his friends. 


End file.
